


The Perfect Solution

by Marian_De_Haan



Series: Mattaka series [1]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Mystery, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 00:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21311365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marian_De_Haan/pseuds/Marian_De_Haan
Summary: Blake's hopes to forge rebel alliance with Avalon, Shivan and Kasabi are dashed when Federation ships ambush the meeting with their representatives. Who betrayed them to the Federation?
Series: Mattaka series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536349
Kudos: 8





	The Perfect Solution

**Author's Note:**

> Published in The Chronicles #67-68. Reproduced here on the author's behalf and with the author's permission.
> 
> Illustrations by Marian De Haan (Avon & Cally), Andrew Williams (the rest).

On hearing Jenna and Cally enter the teleport room, Blake looked up from the bracelet rack. With satisfaction he saw that they'd followed his instruction to dress up for the occasion. Jenna looked stunning in a long blue gown that set off her blond hair. Cally, in a white dress with transparent sleeves and a band of blue glitters running down the front, had done her hair up, which gave her an alien beauty.

Blake began to feel a tinge of doubt about his own wide-sleeved green tunic covered by the brown jacket. This was his first official conference with representatives of other rebel leaders and he wanted to make a good impression.

For a moment he considered telling the women to remove their guns — their belts were ruining the overall effect of the dresses somewhat. On the other hand, the guns did demonstrate that his crew was ever ready for battle.

Snapping the bracelet with difficulty over his ample sleeve, Blake cast an impatient look at the entrance.

"Avon's on his way," Cally said, moving to the rack.

Blake would have preferred to take only the women with him, but after their recent clash in the aftermath of their escape from the System, it seemed not advisable to leave Avon sulking on the ship.

Footsteps announced the approach of _Liberator's_ resident dissenter. Blake blinked, opened his mouth but found himself stuck for words. He should have known that Avon would apply his own meaning to the concept of dressing up. And only _he_ could retain his dignity in a long-sleeved silver-coloured tunic, black tight fitting trousers and thigh-length boots.

Face set in haughty forbiddance, Avon strutted to the bracelet rack. Vila, who'd shuffled in after him, slid behind the teleport console. Blake took his place beside the women in the teleport bay. Clipping a bracelet around his wrist, Avon leaned over the console to check the co-ordinates, then joined the others, hand on his gun.

"Put us down, Vila," Blake said.

Immediately the room blurred into nothingness, to be replaced by a well-lit chamber, furnished with comfy chairs and a table holding refreshments. Blake saw two men and a woman rise to their feet. He started to greet them but fell silent halfway through when in horror he saw his three _Liberator_ companions advance upon them with guns drawn. Suddenly Jenna, Cally and Avon produced extra bracelets seemingly out of nowhere. In a perfectly synchronised movement the bracelets were clasped onto the wrists of the startled strangers.

Holding his gun trained on the woman, Avon activated his communicator. "Bring us up, Vila."

Still trying to believe his eyes, Blake found himself back in _Liberator's_ teleport room.

Vila leaned over the internal communicator, shouting over the protests of the abducted trio: "Gan, go!"

Blake felt the acceleration as _Liberator_ shot out of orbit. The others were already leading their catches from the room. Shuffling past Blake, Vila cast him an anxious look.

Following the others to the flight deck, Blake felt a cold fury grip him. Treason! He should have expected it. But somehow he'd never really believed Avon capable of betrayal.

The _"Go back to your position!"_ must have done it — he'd pushed Avon too far.

* * *

On the flight deck he found the abducted trio huddled together on the couch, guarded by Avon and Cally. Jenna had gone to the main pilot's position. Vila climbed into his position while Gan was at his own station.

Blake gritted his teeth. How had Avon got the others on his side? Greed could tempt Vila and Jenna — the price for Blake plus the envoys of Avalon, Shivan and Kasabi would be substantial. But Cally would never succumb to selling him out. Nor could he think that of Can. Yet they were all in it. . . .

//Blake!// He became aware of Cally's voice in his head. //It is not what you think.//

"It had better not be!"

"Information," Zen cut into Blake's growl. "Sensors detect pursuit ships approaching at maximum speed."

"Take evasive action," he instructed automatically.

"Put them on the screen," Jenna said.

"Nine!" Vila exclaimed.

"They must have been hiding on the other side of the planet," Cally said.

Jenna looked at Avon: "You were right."

"It was an obvious possibility."

"Plasma bolt launched," Zen announced.

"Evasion course!" Blake ran to Avon's position. He'd sort out this mess later. First they had to deal with the emergency. "Activate the force wall!"

He saw Avon press the force wall button without taking his gaze or gun away from his captives. Cally too, held them firmly at gunpoint.

The plasma bolt flew wide.

"Two more coming," Gan said, eyes on his console.

_Liberator_ shuddered under a hit.

"Force wall holding," Avon reported.

"Look!" Vila pointed at the main screen. "More ships!"

With sinking heart Blake saw six more ships dive at them from behind the planet's moon.

"They're going to corner us!" Cally said.

Gan's fist came down on his console. "We've got to outrun them!"

"Zen, maximum speed," Jenna ordered.

"No, they're too close." Blake raised his voice: "Zen, go straight for the command ship — the one holding back."

"No!" Avon said.

"You want to ram it, Blake?" Jenna asked.

"That's suicide!" Vila protested.

"It's our only chance," Blake snapped. "This way they won't shoot at us for fear of hitting the flagship."

Avon snorted. "You hope!"

On the screen the command ship grew in size. A plasma bolt flew wide, its flash lighting up the screen for a moment.

Blake found himself holding his breath. The commander must be aware of _Liberator's_ objective by now. He seemed to have nerves of steel. Blake braced himself for the impact. . . .

At the very last moment the command ship began to move. It cleared _Liberator's_ path just in time but the manoeuvre brought it on a collision course with the nearest pursuit ship. A shock wave rocked _Liberator_ while it shot past them. By the time Zen had adjusted the detectors they saw another pursuit ship fly into the fireball.

_Liberator_ surged under a barrage of plasma bolts.

"Can the force wall hold?" Vila squeaked.

"Not for long." Avon's voice sounded strained.

Another barrage, then Zen announced: "_Liberator_ is out of range."

"Have they launched any interceptor rockets?" Jenna asked.

"Scanners detect no missiles."

"That must mean they didn't bring any," Cally said.

"They must have thought they wouldn't need them." Avon's gun was still rock-solidly aimed at his prisoners. "A miscalculation."

"Phew." Vila was leaning over his console with an air of total exhaustion. "I thought my heart would stop beating!"

"Since we weren't so fortunate," Avon told him, "you can make yourself useful by searching our guests."

"Avon!" Blake left his position.

"Keep out of this, Blake!" Avon's eyes didn't leave his captives. "Jenna, you search the woman."

Anger spilling over, Blake strode towards him. "Now what do you think— "

//Blake, WAIT!// Cally's plea was so urgent it made him stop in mid stride.

//PLEASE, trust us.//

All right, he would wait. The best way to find out what was going on, anyway, would be to let them think they could get away with it.

Jenna stepped from her position. "Zen, keep us out of the path of any Federation ships."

"And keep the detectors on full alert," Avon added.

Vila extracted an impressive amount of weaponry from the clothes of the men. The woman too had not come unarmed.

Now the alarm was over Blake started to take in the details of his conference partners. The woman was small and slim, black eyes blazing in her Oriental face. Her blue-black hair was hanging lose except for the side tresses, which were pulled backwards and bound together with a colourful ribbon. She was dressed in a bright red jump suit that seemed too tight to hide the gun and knife Jenna had unearthed.

The two men were very dissimilar but for the look of furious resentment on their faces. The tallest had short blond hair, grey eyes shaded by golden lashes, and a long face with square chin. He was dressed in a grey tunic and darker grey trousers.

The small man's face was rounder, with broad cheekbones and brown eyes. His fringed brown hair hung nearly to his shoulders and shone up red where the harsh flight deck lights caught it. He wore a coverall in various shades of green that would provide good camouflage in a wooded area.

All were voicing their outrage.

"You'll regret this," the small man hissed with a glare cold enough to extinguish a bush fire.

"I should have known better," the other observed, his face becoming redder as his fury grew.

"I told Shivan Blake wasn't to be trusted," the woman said.

"What can you expect from criminals?" the tall man raged on.

"Led by a child molester!"

* * *

The woman's words hit Blake almost physically. For a moment his world blanked out, then he became aware of his crew's protests.

"That's a bloody lie!" He had never heard Jenna swear before.

"The accusation was false!" Cally's voice was soft but all the more scathing.

"It was the nastiest thing they could think of to frame on him," Vila said.

Gan left his position, advancing upon the woman with angry steps. "Do you think we'd stay with Blake if it was true?"

"Interesting," Avon remarked, "that someone claiming to oppose the Federation can so easily fall for its propaganda."

The woman gave him a haughty stare. "The fact that the Federation is corrupt doesn't mean that all its assertions are false."

"You think she's the traitor, Avon?" Jenna asked.

"What do you mean, traitor?" the tall man shouted.

From across the couch area the small man stared directly at Blake. Like Cally's, his voice had more impact by its quietness: "The only traitors here appear to be on your side!"

Time to sort out the mess. "This is clearly a misunderstanding."

"Wake up, Blake!" Avon snarled.

Jenna gestured at the screen. "Those pursuit ships weren't there by coincidence!"

"It was a trap," Cally said.

Vila nodded. "Yeah. Someone must have told them about the conference."

"Yes." Avon's gaze wandered over the captives. "One of you sold us out."

"Or one of _you_!" the small man countered.

"Much more likely," the woman added.

"After all," the tall man said, "you are criminals!"

"_We_ know that the Federation won't keep a deal," Avon replied. "It needs a mindless idealist to believe that they will actually pay out the price on our heads."

"How many credits did they promise?" Cally asked. "This is ridiculous!" the woman said. "I refuse to be insulted like this."

"You're Blake, aren't you?" the small man asked. "If you had nothing to do with this abduction, I suggest you tell your gang to release us NOW."

"And keep them in check in future," the tall man added.

"Oh, he'd like that," Blake heard Avon murmur.

"I apologise for the conduct of my crew," he said. "But their prompt action did save us all imprisonment or worse. We'll sort this accusation out."

"Yes, we'll find the traitor among you," Avon added. "Vila, fetch Orac."

"Oh, yeah, fine! Let me do all the work!" Muttering, Vila left the flight deck.

Gan began to gather the weaponry confiscated by Vila and Jenna. "I'll take this for safekeeping."  
  
Seeing his guests bristle, Blake held up his hand to stifle their protests. "You'll get them back."

"When you've proven your innocence," Avon said.

The tall man threw up his hands. "Oh, stop this nonsense! You have no proof of any treason!"

"Those pursuit ships weren't there by coincidence," Jenna repeated. "Not fifteen," Gan said.

"We have to face the facts," Blake told his guests. "It appears that Space Command knew about our meeting, so someone must have informed them."

Vila returned, carrying Orac. "Here we are. He put the computer on the couch. Blake saw it was already activated, with a small, flat pad attached to the top of the transparent case.

"Put your hand on the sensor plate and introduce yourself," Avon told his captives. "The machine will read your palm and voice prints and compare them to the Federation records."

"You think one of them is an impostor?" Jenna asked.

Avon gave her a brief smile. "It's possible, isn't it?"

Cally addressed the prisoners. "Did you know each other before you met at the rendezvous?"

"No," the small man said pensively.

"But how would an impostor know about the meeting?" the woman asked.

Good point, Blake thought.

"Let's get started," Avon said.

"Why should _we_ do the introductions?" the tall man challenged.

"That's right," the woman said. "Your followers brought us here, Blake. You introduce them first!"

"All right." It wasn't worth squabbling about. With amusement Blake saw Avon silently seethe at being called his follower. The fact that he refrained from comment brought home the seriousness of the situation, though.

Blake gestured at his crew. "Jenna, Cally, Gan, Vila and Avon." He fought down the temptation to add something like 'my staunchest supporter'; this was no time for teasing.

"Now you," Avon said.

Vila gave the woman an ingratiating smile. "Ladies first?"

* * *

For a moment it looked like the woman would refuse, then she rose, shrugging. Face inscrutable, she laid her hand on Orac's sensor plate. "My name's Sian Tao, I'm here on behalf of Shivan — against my better judgement."

"State your age and birthplace," Orac requested.

The impatient voice seemed to startle her, but she regained her air of indifference almost at once. "Not that it's any concern of yours, but I'm 44. I was born in Pagoda in the province of Cathay on Azul."

Blake was surprised; he'd estimated she was ten years younger. He'd heard of Azul, a small agricultural planet colonised in the last century of the Old Calendar. The Federation had left it alone until eight years ago, when gold had been discovered in its mountains. The gold must be mined out by now, but the Federation still held the planet in its iron grasp.

"Identity confirmed," Orac declared.

Cally waved her gun at the tall man. "Now you!"

He complied with a frown of fury. "I'm Fintan, Bret Fintan, Avalon's special envoy. I'm 27, from Rainbow's End on Eldorado's Southern Continent."

Blake looked at the man with sudden interest. Eldorado had been part of the Federation from the beginning. By all accounts it was a prosperous planet with a largely content population. Not a place one would expect to produce many rebels.

"Identity confirmed."

With an exaggerated sigh Fintan sat down again.

The last captive took his place. "I'm Karel Restal—"

"Restal?" Vila exclaimed.

"That's all we need!" Avon murmured.

"Family of yours?" Gan asked.

"Must be." Vila grabbed Karel's hand and pumped it. "I'm Vila Restal."

Karel retrieved his hand somewhat fastidiously. "I believe I've heard my father talk about a distant cousin named Vila." He didn't look particularly thrilled at this unexpected family reunion.

"Are you a Delta?" Jenna asked him.

"Yes." Karel met her gaze defiantly. "Do you object?"

"I think what Jenna means," Blake said hurriedly, "is that one does not see many Deltas in positions of responsibility."

"Kasabi looks to a man's worth, not to his classification."

"Please continue the introduction," Orac said with clear impatience.

"I'm 33 and was born in London Dome."

"Identity confirmed."

"So," Cally said, gun not wavering, "no impostor."

Avon nodded. "Which means that one of them sold out the others."

"And us!" Vila said, distancing himself from Karel.

"Unless someone else in their organisations is the traitor," Jenna remarked.

Sian gave her a scathing look. "Do you take us for amateurs? Shivan keeps to the need-to-know principle."

"So does Kasabi," Karel said.

Seeing Fintan open his mouth, Blake said quickly: "And we can rely on Avalon to be extra careful after being betrayed once."

"Quite," Fintan said.

"But someone had to arrangements," Cally observed.

"I was Shivan's contact person," Sian said. "From the moment he decided to participate, he left all arrangements and communications to me. No one else in our group knows about the meeting."

"On our side I was the only one involved in organising the event," Karel declared. "Our security is total; even Kasabi doesn't know the meeting place."

"Whose initiative was the conference?" Avon asked.

"Kasabi's," Karel said. Fintan snorted. "Of course the initiative came from Earth. Do you think they'd leave such things to Extra-Terrans? They regard us as even lower than Deltas!"

"We don't need them," Sian said. "We're quite capable of fighting the Federation on our own. I told Shivan so but he said we should at least listen to their proposals with an open mind."

As we can rule out the rest of your organisation," Avon's voice was honey-sweet, "that means that he traitor _must_ be one of you!"

"Unless one of their masters thought fit to sell them out," Vila said.

"That is ridiculous!" Sian exclaimed. "Unthinkable!"

Karel shook his head. "As I said, Kasabi didn't know the place of the rendezvous."

"Avalon wouldn't stoop so low," Fintan said. "But I wouldn't put it past the others."

"How dare you?" Sian had lost all her Oriental impassiveness. Red patches appeared on her yellow-brown cheeks. "Shivan would never do such an ignoble deed!"

Karel seemed slightly amused by the accusation. "Kasabi knows what all Earth— based rebels know - that the Federation will not keep to an agreement. They're never to be trusted." He turned to face Fintan. "We on Earth bear the brunt of the Federation's persecution. No hiding away on comfortable backwater planets for us!"

Blake sighed. Was this why all attempts to unite the various resistance groups had failed — provincialism and inability to trust? He caught Avon's sardonic smile. Avon, of course, had been predicting all along that the conference would be a waste of effort. And they still had to find the traitor.

* * *

The same thought seemed to have occurred to Cally. "Tell us about your motivations," she said. "Why did you choose to join the resistance?"

Karel raised a mocking eyebrow. "Poor career prospects for a Delta?"

Cally shook her head. "I don't believe that."

He shrugged. "Well, I didn't exactly choose to join the resistance. They chose me. I have this gift for electronics — they say it runs in the family. I worked myself up to be something of a communications specialist. Of course, however good, a Delta will never get a well-paid job. My woman was a Beta. It hurt to see her being snubbed by her family for living with me. Then one day I was approached by a man asking my help to set up a secure communications system. I knew this was my chance for getting the credits to buy us exit visas and passage on a liner. Start a new life somewhere else."

His lips parted in a self-mocking grimace. "The man refused to tell me more but it wasn't difficult to guess that the job had to be illegal. I didn't care - it just made me extra careful. I prepared an escape route. That was how I got away when I heard that my contact had been arrested."

His eyes were staring at the ceiling but it was clear that he was seeing his own horrors. "When the security forces couldn't find me, they took my woman in for questioning. She didn't know where I was but they tortured her to death just to make sure."

His eyes snapped back into focus. "That's what makes the Federation so rotten to the core! I took the risk, the deed was mine. Annin was innocent, they had no right to make her pay!"

Gan had moved towards him. Laying a hand on Karel's shoulder, he said: "I know how you feel. My woman was killed by a security guard."

"That's why we have to fight," Blake said, swallowing to get rid of the lump in his throat. He let his gaze rove over his less than ardent followers to get the message through. Jenna seemed touched, Vila looked away, and Avon. . . Avon sat absolutely still, staring at nothing, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.

//Leave him, Blake!// So Cally had noticed it too.

Gan let go of Karel's shoulder. "I'll get you something to drink."

"We could all do with a drink," Vila commented.

"Yes, Blake," Sian said. "Your hospitality leaves something to be desired."

Avon snapped out of his trance. "We aren't particularly keen to have you here."

"Vila," Blake said. "Help Gan bring in the drinks."

"And some snacks," Jenna added. Hands in her sides, she mustered the three on the couch. "It looks like this is going to be a long session."

"It needn't be," Fintan said, while a muttering Vila followed Gan from the flight deck. "It's clear this conference isn't going anywhere. So why not take us home and forget the whole thing?"

Sian nodded. "That's the first sensible suggestion I've heard here. I've wasted enough time on a project that did not have a chance of success anyway."

"No!" Ignoring the guns, Karel rose. "If we have a traitor amongst us, I want to find out who it is."

"We should look for him amongst Blake's followers," Sian said.

Fintan gave Blake a haughty stare. "I presume they all knew about our rendezvous?"

He saw no need to lie. "Yes."

"Six of you against three of us," Karel said, sitting down again. "Going by numbers that makes it twice as likely that the traitor is one of you, Blake!"

"Or there isn't any traitor at all," Fintan suggested. "And this is just a ploy to make Blake feel important."

A thought struck Blake: "Or to make the conference fail."

Jenna rolled her eyes. ships—"

"Weren't there by coincidence," he snapped. "I know!" He did not want to believe the implication — the possibility was too ugly to contemplate.

"What Blake means," Avon said, producing his nastiest smile, "is that one of us could have warned the Federation and used the abduction plan to escape from their trap, in order to spoil the meeting."

* * *

"It does make sense." Jenna's gaze at Avon was suddenly full of suspicion.

"There!" Sian seemed to jump at the thought with relish. "Now whose idea was it to kidnap us?"

"Obviously not Blake's," Karel said.

Avon smiled slightly. "No, it was mine. But the others thought it so sensible that they were happy to go along with it."

"If we'd been proved wrong, we'd have apologised and returned to the rendezvous," Cally said.

Vila nodded. "It seemed the perfect solution."

"But you didn't think fit to inform your leader," Sian observed.

"Well now," Avon drawled. "Didn't I hear you mention the need-to-know principle?"

"Maybe we should have told him," Jenna said.

Avon glared at her. "You think he'd have listened?"

"Enough!" Blake bellowed, fed up by being discussed as if he wasn't there. "Avon, don't you ever _dare_ to go behind my back again!"

"Avon isn't to blame," Cally said, sounding slightly defensive. "I had a bad feeling about the conference. Avon acted on that."

Blake was spared a reply by the return of Vila and Gan. The first carried a large tray with bottles and glasses, the other had an even larger tray loaded with snacks in one hand and a folding table in the other. In an uneasy truce they selected nibbles and drinks. Blake sat down on the couch, Jenna, Vila and Gan following his example. Avon and Cally remained standing, using only one hand to take refreshments while training their guns on their guests with the other.

Blake chewed on a handful of nuts without tasting them. Was it Avon who'd alerted the Federation? It was possible. Cally's feelings of misgiving about the conference could have given him the idea. And Cally's support would have convinced the others.

Angrily, Blake cast the thought aside. Avon was a cautious man. He'd know that a tip off about the conference would bring the Federation ships out in droves. It was only by luck that they had managed to escape them. Avon had too much sense to bring himself and _Liberator_ into such danger.

The traitor had to be one of his guests. But how to find him? They had so little to go on. . . .

"You were talking about your motivations for joining the resistance," he said. Holding up a hand to forestall the inevitable protests, he added quickly: "I'm keeping an open mind about the identity of the traitor. But to find him, it is essential that we get to know each other better."

"To find him — or _her_," Jenna remarked, glancing pointedly at Sian.

"Indeed." Sian returned the gaze.

Keeping his voice neutral, Blake invited: "Why don't you tell us your reasons, Sian?"

She downed her glass before replying: "The Federation killed my husband and turned my daughter into a mutoid. Reasons enough for you?"

Blake saw Karel lay a hand on her arm.

More calmly, she continued: "My husband was a peace-loving man. When the Federation invaded our world, some of us wanted to fight them. But he said we'd better sit it out, that they would leave once the gold was mined out. If we resisted, they would annex our planet and we'd never be rid of them. Our government chose that line too but some dissidents formed guerrilla bands. When they killed a high-ranking official touring our village, the Federation retaliated by taking all the villagers prisoner. By chance I was away with my youngest daughter that day."

She held out her glass for a refill. Gan obliged silently.

Sian took a deep swig. "My husband was executed along with the other captured adults. The children were sent to a rehabilitation centre at the other end of the galaxy. And the girls of suitable age were send to a brothel to entertain the troops. My daughter was amongst those."

Sian's dark eyes shone with pride. "There was nothing of her father's pacifism in Yulin. The first trooper she had to serve, she smashed his head in with a wine bottle. As punishment she was sent to Mattaka."

Blake felt his blood go cold. The mentioning of Mattaka had that effect. That planet held the clinic where people were turned into mutoids.

"By the time I got word of the atrocity it was all over," Sian went on. "I found a safe home for my youngest daughter — I didn't want them to hold her ransom for my good conduct. Then I took passage to the nearest planet with known rebel activity. Shivan was already making a name for himself. I asked him for enough explosives to blow up the clinic on Mattaka. He granted my wish and I set out to destroy that symbol of the Federation's inhumanity. It was to be a suicide mission but I survived — half the explosives were faulty. The explosion destroyed only part of the clinic."

Blake saw tears form in her dark eyes. She blinked them away impatiently. "Yulin was among the casualties and I was grateful for that - better dead than a mutoid! Intent on finishing the job, I managed to escape and return to Shivan for more explosives. He convinced me that now the surprise was gone, I wouldn't stand a chance, and that I could serve the cause better by staying alive."

"A sensible thought," Avon said dryly into the silence that followed her last words. "Not something one would expect from an ardent freedom fighter."

Blake fought down the urge to strangle him.

He was impressed by Sian. To have walked into the Mattaka clinic on a suicide mission! She looked so fragile. But that was of course the best camouflage. She would be an asset to his crew, if he could persuade her to join them.

And if she proved to be innocent. But she had to be innocent! Surely after what the Federation had done to her family, she would never want to do a deal with them! The same went for Karel. And Fintan had to be above suspicion to be in Avalon's confidence. Blake knew Shivan and Kasabi only by reputation, but Avalon he'd met. She wasn't a fool.

Which left his own crew. But what interest could any of them have in causing the conference to fail? And he couldn't see any other motive for them. Avon was right, trying a deal with the Federation was no option. Not even Vila could be naive enough to think that they would keep their word.

Which brought him back conference partners.

* * *

"And you?" Cally asked Fintan. "What's your story?" He shrugged. "Nothing dramatic. I just want to fight the Federation."

"Oh, a selfless idealist," Avon scorned. "Don't take us for fools, Fintan! Rebels have a personal reason for opposing the Federation. Karel has his woman to revenge.. ."

Something in Avon's voice made Blake sit up sharply. It was gone when he continued, though.

"... Sian has her husband and daughter to revenge. Even Blake's idealism is rooted in what the Federation did to him and his family and followers. So you, Fintan, are either no rebel, or you're holding something back!"

"I'm getting bored," Vila said, stretching his legs and sinking back into the couch. "Let's space them all and get it over with."

Blake knew he didn't mean it but he sounded so convincing that the prisoners turned pale.

"You really are a bunch of conscienceless criminals, aren't you?" Fintan hissed.

"Not even above killing a kinsman," Sian added.

Vila shrugged. "We've never been a close-knit family. I'd have stolen the family jewels if there'd been any." He waved with his empty glass in Karel's direction. "And as far as we know _he_ could have been the one wanting to sell me to the Federation."

"The criminal mind," Fintan said, studying Karel with sudden interest. "They say that runs in the family."

Karel's disdaining smile would have done Avon proud. "Is that why you are so reluctant to reveal anything about yourself? A criminal background?"

"We're waiting, Fintan!" Jenna said.

He folded his arms. "I don't see why my motivations are any of your business!"

"You wouldn't have a criminal record, by any chance?" Vila suggested, grinning.

"Orac," Avon said, "see if you can find any criminal record on Bret Fintan."

It took the computer only a second, making Blake wonder whether it had already sought and stored the relevant files. "On Eldorado he's wanted for evading conscription."

"That's hardly a crime," Vila protested.

"It is one in the colonies," Fintan said. "Where do you think the Federation gets all those expendable troopers? You pampered Terrans are too good to waste, even the Deltas are spared conscription. No, use the yokels from the colonies! Well, I didn't want to end up as laser cannon fodder! A friend of mine had connections with the Anti-Conscription Movement. They got me a safe passage off planet and an introduction to a rebel group on Aldebaran Six. That's where I first met Avalon, when she came to organise the revolt. When the Federation re-conquered the planet I fled to her headquarters and have stayed with her ever since."

"Working yourself up to a place on her staff," Avon said.

"That's right. Avalon knows talent when she sees it."

"But you weren't with her when she went to help the Subterrons,"Jenna observed.

"Jenna's right," Blake said, frowning. "All those with her were killed."

"So why wasn't he?" Vila asked.

"Because I wasn't there," Fintan said in a tone as if talking to a retarded child. "I'd gone on a separate mission."

"Safely away from the massacre," Avon said.

"But someone betrayed her to Travis," Cally observed. "That must have been one of her own people."

"You think he's that one?" Jenna asked.

"Now that would make sense," Gan remarked. "Having got away with one betrayal,  
he'd expect it to work again."

"You're crazy," Fintan shrieked. never bring Avalon into danger! Never!"

At least that sounded sincere, Blake thought. But the traitor was bound to be a good actor.

Karel leaned back in his seat. "So we've got 'it runs in the family' for me and 'he escaped a massacre' for Fintan. Now I'm curious to know what impressive motive for Sian's guilt you can come up with."

"Her surviving daughter," Avon said promptly. "Loved ones are a liability for a rebel. As she said herself, if the Federation's got hold of the girl, they could force her mother into any act of betrayal."

"Yeah," Vila said. "They do say that blood runs thicker than water."

Sian had gone pale under her yellow-brown skin. "My daughter is safe. No one can touch her."

"Let's see how difficult it is to find her," Avon suggested. "If we can do it, so can the Federation. Orac-"

"No!" Blake said. "It is better that we do not know where she is."

Cally nodded. "The need-to-know principle, Avon."

"Makes sense," Gan added. "What we don't know we can't tell when we're captured."

"I'd rather not be captured," Vila said.

"Blake will manage it yet," Avon told him. "Of course, we may be lucky, if he manages to get us killed instead."

Blake clenched his fists and took three deep calming breaths. Forget about black holes and the origin of the Auronar, the real mystery of the universe was how Avon had managed to survive into middle age! He must have brought people to the point of manslaughter wherever he went.

He saw Avon cast a challenging look at Cally. So, she had brought him to task telepathically. Good. It was a relief to know that he could still rely on her support. And Gan's.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Jenna said.

"So why not stop this charade?" Fintan suggested.

Vila leaned over to refill his empty glass. "But then we'll never know who nearly got us  
blown into atoms."

"And the traitor will still be a danger to his group," Cally remarked.

"Yes," Blake said. "For that reason alone we have to find out who it is."

"So how do we do that?" Jenna asked.

Vila brought his refilled glass to his mouth. "Why not try a bit of old fashioned torture?"

Jenna rose. "Yes, that might do the trick." She sounded thoroughly vicious. Blake was reminded of her performance when they were captured by the Amagons and she appeared to have joined them.

"This is preposterous!" Sian shouted.

"Blake," Fintan said, "it's time you take your criminals in hand!"

"Blake has no say in this," Avon told him.

"Now wait, Avon-"

//Blake, PLEASE.// Blake sought Cally's eyes. He'd been sitting quietly looking on for too long! "I will have no torture on my ship!" Raising his voice over the protests of his crew, he added: "Torture is no solution here, because we could never be certain whether a confession would be true."

Karel nodded. "You can make people confess anything under torture. Just ask any Central Security para-investigator."

//Please, Blake! Trust us!//

Blake began to regret his interference. This was the second time Cally asked for his trust. He owed her that. But he couldn't retrieve his words now. Stiffly, he repeated: "Torture is no option."

Having downed his glass, Vila waved it challengingly at Avon. He seemed slightly drunk. "You've got any ideas, genius?"

"Well now, the simplest ideas are often the best." Avon produced a smug smile. "Orac, do you have any lie-detecting abilities?"

"Of course I have! I must point out, however, that asking me to act as lie detector is a great misuse of my capabilities."

"Lazy, isn't he?" Vila commented.

Leaning against the side of the couch, Jenna folded her arms. "It must be your company."

"Orac," Avon said, "explain the procedure."

"It is the same as for the identification procedure. The test subject must lay a hand on the attached sensor plate while answering your questions."

"Right," Blake said. "Let's begin."

Fintan jumped up. "No!"

"Why not?" Vila asked, his voice slightly slurred.

"The innocent have nothing to fear," Cally said. Her gun was pointing upwards, as if she'd forgotten that she held it.

Avon's mind seemed occupied with Orac, his gun was only loosely covering Sian and Karel who were still seated on the couch.

Fintan took a step to his right, towards the side of the couch. "Machines can be tampered with."

"Why would we want to do that?" Jenna asked.

"Because you need a scapegoat," Fintan said, casually taking another step in her direction. "Someone to take the blame for your own treachery."

Suddenly Blake saw his intention. Shouting a warning he lurched himself forward.

Too late. In one movement Fintan grabbed Jenna, scooped her gun from its holster and pushed it against her head.

"Stand still," Fintan said. "Remove your guns! Or she will die."

Grinding his teeth, Blake saw Cally and Avon unbuckle their gun-belts. Bending down, Cally laid hers on the floor.

Tossing his gun onto an empty place on the couch, Avon said: "Well, that settles the question of the traitor's identity."

"Why? " Blake asked Fintan. He had to distract him — give the others the chance to jump  
him. "You said you couldn't harm Avalon."

"I did it for her," Fintan said. "For Avalon!"

"You mean she instigated this?" Sian asked.

Thoughts raced through Blake's head. It couldn't be! He'd risked his life — his crew's lives — to rescue her. He'd made her welcome on _Liberator_. Surely she couldn't repay him like this? Unless she was conditioned... No, she'd not been in custody long enough for that.

"Of course not!" Fintan's words came in gasps, like his breathing. "Avalon doesn't know about it — wouldn't approve. But I had to do something." His hand holding the gun was trembling.

Jenna stood very still, clearly aware of his instability.

"Avalon's not been herself since the massacre," Fintan continued: "We can't go on like this. The memory is destroying her. She needs rest, safety. I'm going to take her to a quiet place, away from all danger. That's why I contacted the Federation, to get her a pardon."

"And for that you were prepared to betray us all to the Federation," Sian said, voice heavy with scorn.

"Sell us out," Karel added bitterly.

"I didn't want the money," Fintan said. "They could keep their millions of Credits and choke on them! All I asked for was a full pardon for her and me, and enough funds to take her to safe place."

Blake felt his indignation rise. "And you didn't care about what would happen to the others!"

"Why should I care about criminals and Terrans and Shivan's blundering bunch? You'll all get caught sooner or later anyway."

"You're not going to get away with this," Cally said.

"Oh yes, I am. You'll take me to the nearest neutral planet." He pushed the gun harder  
against Jenna's head. "I'll take her with me as hostage."

Avon took a step towards him. "You are taking Jenna nowhere."

Cally bent to retrieve her gun. "It's over, Fintan."

"Stay away from that gun!" he warned. "Keep back!"

Neither Cally nor Avon took heed.

Fintan's face twisted as he pulled the trigger.

"No," Blake shouted. His heart missed a beat but then he saw Jenna still standing, apparently unharmed.

Fintan frowned. Cursing, he pulled the trigger again.

Jenna's foot swung backwards, delivering a savage kick.

Fintan screamed, bending double. The gun fell from his hand. Swinging on the cord from Jenna's belt, it came to rest just above the floor.

Blake involuntarily winced in sympathy - the high heels of Jenna's boots were viciously sharp.

Gan was grabbing Fintan from behind, forcing his arms up his back. Fintan tried to tear himself free but stopped fighting when Gan threatened to break his arms.

On the couch, Vila raised his glass in a mock salute. "You see, Fintan, we knew it would be impossible to prove who the traitor was."

"So we decided to give him the means to betray himself," Cally added.

Avon folded his arms, insufferably smug. "And you obliged."

"Going for what you saw as the easiest target." Jenna brought her face close to Fintan's. "She's blond and she's pretty so she must be stupid!" Stepping away from him, she retrieved and holstered her weapon. "So I connected my gun to an empty power pack."

"And we gave you the chance to over_power_ her," Vila added, giggling at his pun.

Refilling his glass, Karel remarked: "Well, Blake, it seems that you've managed to forge your band of criminals into a loyal and efficient team." With a mocking smile, he added: "Even if they are lacking somewhat in discipline."

* * *

Unbuckling her gun-belt, Jenna walked over to the storage wall. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Shove him out of the airlock," Vila said.

"No," Blake protested. "He must have a fair trial."

"We've all heard his confession," Cally said.

"There's no doubt about his guilt," Gan added.

"A trial by his own people," Blake continued, raising his voice. "We'll send him back to Avalon."

Karel shook his head. "If she's in the state he described, I doubt she'll have the guts to give him his due."

"We can't have her setting him free," Jenna said, pushing her gun into its slot with unnecessary force.

//Blake,// came Cally's voice in his head. //You said yourself we can't risk him betraying again!//

Sian rose. "I'll deal with him."

"No," Blake said. She gave him a scorching look. "Shivan will approve."

"That seems highly improbable."

All heads turned to Orac.

"What do you mean?" Avon asked the machine.

"In the course of my monitoring of Federation transmissions — on Blake's request and under strong protest as it is engaging circuits that could be employed on more important matters—"

"Get on with it!" Blake growled.

"I have intercepted a message from Space Commander Penn that the rebel Shivan was killed in the trap that was set up for him."

* * *

Sian staggered. "It's a lie! He was allright when I set out for the conference, less than a week ago."

"When was this message transmitted?" Avon asked.

"Today at 03:21 Earth Standard Time."

Avon consulted his watch. "Just over twelve hours ago."

"They're lying," Sian repeated. "It's vile Federation propaganda."

"You'd better sit down." Cally led her to the couch.

"Orac," Blake said. "Where was the message beamed to?"

"To Space Command Headquarters."

"Has it been released to the press yet?"

"No mention has been made of it in any newscast."

Blake felt his hopes die. "If it was mere propaganda they would have broadcast it all over the galaxy."

"The fact that the Federation is corrupt doesn't mean that all its assertions are false," Avon quoted coldly.

"Avon!" Gan protested from where he was still holding his charge. Fintan looked pale and sick but resigned to his fate, Blake thought. Clearly he wasn't expecting any mercy.

Vila offered Sian a glass filled to the brim. "Here, this'll make you fell better."

She kicked it away, the liquid spilling over his hand.

"Hey, that's excellent stuff you know!" he said indignantly.

"It's _his_ doing!" Sian pointed a trembling finger at Fintan. "He wasn't content with betraying us all. He's betrayed Shivan as well!"

"You're mad!," Fintan shouted. "How could I have known anything— "

Jumping up, she snatched Avon's discarded gun from the couch.

"No, Sian!" Blake threw himself forward. Something hit him. Vaguely aware of pandemonium he fell down with someone on top of him.

"Idiot!" Avon hissed, breathing heavily in his ear. "She'd have shot right through you!"

Another one he owed him, after the bomb and the cable, Blake thought, realising that Avon must have shoved him out of the path of the blast.

Jenna's concerned face floated into his vision. "Are you all right."

"Yes." He felt Avon let go of him. Rubbing a sore elbow, Blake stood up. He saw Avon trying to get up, hampered by his boots. Gan was lowering Fintan's limp body While Cally, gun in hand, stood bent over Sian who was lying half over the couch.

Karel was surveying the scene with an air of detachment. "Those yokels from the colonies really are amateurs, aren't they?"

* * *

Cally looked up from her examination. "Sian's alive. My gun is one of those Avon adapted to stun."

"Mine wasn't," Avon said, finally managing to stand.

"That's right," Gan said. "Fintan's dead."

Vila's head popped up from behind the couch. "Not very clever, is it, Avon, to leave your gun for the enemy to grab!"

Avon glared at him. "You're a bit slow on the uptake, aren't you?"

Jenna picked up Avon's gun from where Sian had dropped it. "What are we going to do with the body?"

"Put him on ice," Blake said, suddenly weary of the whole affair. "We'll decide about it later."

"Help me carry him, Vila," Gan said.

"Now wait a minute, I've got a weak back!"

"Not surprising," Avon told him, "considering you've got no spine!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, at least I don't leave my gun unattended."

"No, but you can be relied upon to drop it at the crucial moment."

Vila glared at him, clearly stung by this reminder of his gaffe on the _London_. "Well, anyone can get confused!"

"Come, Vila," Gan said.

While a muttering Vila helped Gan to carry away the corpse, Blake cast his attention back to Sian. "We'd better take her to the medical unit."

"No need," Cally said. "She's coming round."

"Orac," came Avon's sharp voice. "Did you catch any further news on Shivan's death?"

"The Supreme Commander has sent personal congratulations to Space Commander Penn and has put his name forward for a recommendation."

"So we can assume that the report is accurate," Avon said.

Cally nodded. "If it was a sham they would have relocated the team to some outer planet where they can't talk."

Sian began to stir.

"It's all right," Blake said. "You were stunned."

"You'll be fine in a minute," Cally added.

"Not that you deserve it!" Jenna mumbled, buckling Avon's gun belt around her waist.

Sian's eyes snapped open. "Did I kill him?"

"Yes," Blake said.

She gave him a defiant look. "I have no regrets."

"No." Blake could not help admiring her. Such courage in so svelte a body!

"Shivan's death has been confirmed," he told her gently. "There seems little point for you in going back. Why not join my team?"

From the corner of his eye he saw Jenna bristle, Cally glare at him and Avon shake his head in an exasperated manner.

"You?" Sian spat in his face. "A dirty man who messes with children? I'd as soon join forces with the President of the Federation!"

* * *

Trying to keep his calm, Blake wiped his face with his ample sleeve. "That accusation was a lie."

"Three lies you mean, there were three children involved, weren't they? I've seen the evidence. Do you expect me to believe they all lied?"

"Ever heard of the Brain Drain Section?" Karel asked.

"Children don't lie," Sian stated.

Avon raised his eyebrows. "You believe that?"

"They're the best liars," Karel said.

"Especially when made to believe that they'retelling the truth," Avon added.

Karel nodded. "The Federation has the facilities to implant false memories in people's minds, Sian."

"I don't believe you!"

"You'd better," Jenna hissed.

"It's true, Sian," Cally told her.

She shook her head. "You Terrans all stick together!"

"I'm no Terran," Cally said.

"Sian, you've _seen_ the evil of the Federation!" While speaking, Blake became aware of his crewmembers taking up positions at his side.

"Don't bother, Blake," Avon said.

Checking her gun, Jenna remarked: "She'll not believe it was a frame even if the prosecutor himself told her so."

"My people have a saying," Cally observed. "What use can light and lenses be, to those who do not want to see?"

Mustering his dignity, Blake said: "Well, the offer's there, Sian. You can take it or leave it."

"Preferably leave it," Avon mumbled.

//This is not a wise proposition, Blake!//

"I want nothing to do with you and with these criminals who see fit to stand by you!" Sian squared her slender shoulders. "I'll continue Shivan's fight on my own, and make sure that his name lives on. You can drop me off at the nearest neutral planet."

Avon walked over to check his console. "That's Ambrosia."

"Zen," Blake said, "set course for Ambrosia, speed standard by six."

"Confirmed."

"Flight time?" Avon asked.

"Sixteen point thirty-three hours."

"We'd better lock her in a cabin," Jenna suggested, training her gun on Sian.

"Yes," Cally said, drawing hers. "We don't want her roaming free all over the ship in that frame of mind."

Jenna pointed with her free hand. "That way."

Sian cast them a haughty look, then lifted her chin and left the flight deck with ostentatious dignity. Jenna and Cally followed her with cold professionalism, giving her no chance to jump them.

Blake had to admit to himself that they were right. Sian was too unpredictable right now to be trusted. But it must be possible to save _something_ from this whole bloody debacle.

He turned to Karel. "You are fighting on Earth, we out in space, but our aim is the same. We need to support each other."

Karel nodded. "That's exactly why Kasabi took the initiative for the conference."

From his position, Avon asked: "And did you really think it had a chance of success?"

"No," Karel conceded, turning his head Avon's way. "But you can't be sure until you've tried." To Blake he added: "Unless you agree to put yourself and your ship under Kasabi's command, I don't see any chance for a merger. But we could agree on mutual support, to help each other on request."

"Agreed," Blake said, idly noticing Vila enter and advance upon the drinks table. "We'll work out a code for contacting each other. How are you planning to return home? We can take you to Earth. . . ."

"Blake!" He heard Avon jump from his position. "We wouldn't get past their defences!"

"Avon's right," Vila said. "It's too dangerous."

"We could manage a quick run to just within teleport range."

Karel held up his hand. "No, Blake. They're right. It would be folly to risk your ship. _Liberator_ is the best resource the resistance has. I'll settle for Ambrosia. From there I can make my own way home. Don't worry, I've been on more perilous travels. My papers can stand any scrutiny."

Reluctantly, Blake gave in. "But we'll provide you with the necessary funds." Aware of Avon and Vila drawing breath to launch into a vigorous protest, he added loudly: "It's the least we can do, after snatching you so abruptly away from the rendezvous."

"As the alternative would have been capture, torture and execution, I can hardly complain. But I'll gratefully accept the funds for the journey. Even with the right documents travel is expensive." Karel rose. "And now I'd like to freshen myself up a bit."

"Of course," Blake said. "Vila, show your cousin a cabin."

On the point of pouring himself a drink, Vila scowled. "But I'm. . . ." Suddenly his face lit up. "Oh, all right!" Scooping up a handful of nuts and a nearly full bottle, he set off at a brisk pace. "Come on, then, cousin."

* * *

When they'd gone, Avon remarked: "I know that look on Vila's face. Cousin Karel had better watch his possessions."

"We'll make him check his belongings before he leaves," Blake said absent-mindedly. Something was bothering him. "Avon, do you really think it possible that those children were given false memories?"

"It seems the most logical assumption."

"But. . . ." Blake stared at him, a cold lump forming in his chest. "This is horrible!"

Almost gently, Avon asked: "Did the possibility never occur to you?"

"No." Blake looked away, suddenly sick with guilt. "I thought they'd just falsified the evidence."

He felt Avon's hand on his shoulder. "Considering your trial was such a hurried affair, I doubt they've had the time to do a proper job. I wouldn't be surprised if those memories are already fading. In the long run the deed may even work against the Federation, when those children grow up wondering what happened with their memories. Once they start digging, the truth won't be difficult to find — all it needs is to grease a few palms. And then the Federation may find itself with three more dissidents on its hands."

Blake felt almost weak with relief. Avon was right, there hadn't been time for more than a crude job. His own brainwashing had taken weeks, and even that hadn't stuck. And if the children did find out the true facts, that would give them the strongest possible motivation to turn against the regime. As Avon had said - a personal reason was the best incentive.

Blake turned round to thank him, but Avon had gone, the pressure of his hand still vaguely lingering. Looking at the entrance, Blake saw his silver and black form disappear into the brightly-lit corridor.

Smiling wryly to himself, Blake settled into the main pilot's position. So much for his high hopes of this conference! At least something had been saved from its ruins, if nothing more than a loose alliance with Kasabi.

A pity that Sian was so hostile. Blake still thought she could have been a valuable addition to his crew. Karel too - he even seemed to have made a favourable impression on Avon. Well, Karel had been the only one to say something positive about _Liberator's_ crew. Still, that seemed hardly enough to merit Avon's tolerance.

Blake remembered Avon sitting absolutely still while Karel told his story about his woman having died under interrogation because of his actions. Could he have been touched by the story? No, Avon wasn't the man for such sentimentality. But he'd looked as if a raw nerve had been touched. As if...

Blake strode to Orac, left on the couch, activator still in its slot. "Orac, are we within range of a Federation Triple-A computer for you to tap into?"

"Only just. For approximately three minutes more."

"Then don't waste time! I want you to check whether any person close to Kerr Avon has died in connection with his trial."

The computer buzzed while the seconds ticked away. "No such occurrence is listed. . ."

Blake felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.

". . .in connection with his trial. However, there's a note about his woman - Anna Grant - having been arrested in connection with his disappearance. She is listed as having died under interrogation."

Blake sat down on the couch, suddenly feeling weak at the knees. Anna, Annin, even the names were almost similar. No wonder Avon had been upset by Karel's story.

Personal reasons providing strong motivations.

Could Anna Grant be Avon's motivation? The reason he was still here, fighting alongside Blake?

Of course he'd never admit it — least of all to himself. But he was there when you needed him.

As were they all, his reluctant, undisciplined crew. Loyal and efficient. Yes, Karel was right. They might be criminals, but —

_Criminals_!

Blake sat up. Maybe that was the solution. Forget the scattered rebel groups with their squabbling and distrust. Go for the professionals! The Terra Nostra was the largest criminal organisation in the galaxy, with firm roots on Earth. They _must_ have a wealth of information and expertise to sell! And as criminals, they wouldn't mind where they sold it as long as the price was right. With _Liberator's_ treasure room, money was no problem. Jenna was bound to know the right contact person. . . .

Use criminals to bring down a criminal regime. Avon should appreciate the irony, Blake thought, grinning to himself.

With renewed vigour, he moved back to his position.

It was the perfect solution.


End file.
